


That would be dark.

by orphan_account



Category: Death Note
Genre: AU of some sort, Alternate Universe, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-02
Updated: 2015-06-02
Packaged: 2018-04-02 11:03:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,233
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4057585
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompted by a friend: Its storming and we lost power. What would happen to L and Light in this situation?</p><p>My apologies for the hyper-generic title.</p>
            </blockquote>





	That would be dark.

"The power's gone out, dear," he mumbles with his thumbnail between his teeth. The computer screen in front of him has gone blank (why he's so attached to the damn desktop instead of caving in and buying a laptop is beyond Light; in situations like this it would be immensely useful, but if he were to present this to his partner he'd only say that it didn't happen often  _enough_  to be an issue), but that doesn't stop him from staring at it as though it's a conversational partner. 

"So it has," Light muses. He was reading the newspaper, but he's tossed it aside. He can't read it in the dark - well, he guesses he could, but unlike his husband Light isn't eager to bring on the wrath of sore eyes and the plague of endless glasses and contacts. There's nothing interesting in the newspaper anyways. Just a couple of overeager politicians stating their faked political platforms for attention, and Light doesn't have the patience to deal with it after a long day of sussing out a group of extortionists. Seven counts of black mail and eight of insurance fraud was more than enough for one day. He was content to cross his arms on his chest and lean his head back, eyes closed, listening to the rain splash against the windows of their apartment.

"Light." Light ignores him, because he knows what L is going to ask and the answer is no. Instead he favors to rest his head on his shoulder and let the air out of his nose slowly, feeling himself sliding ever so slightly off the couch.

"Light," he tries again. His husband isn't the most patient of people, and Light can hear the padding of his bare feet across the carpet as he makes his way over to the couch where Light is sitting. Light feels a smirk break out on his face when he feels the dip in the couch announcing the arrival of his partner next to him. "Light," he repeats, leaning in close to his face. 

He can't fight it much longer. The last time he tried it, L wound up tickling him until he fell off the couch, tears stinging at the corner of his eyes and cheeks aching. Not that he was able to do what L wanted him to do - he couldn't remember what the request was anymore, but rest assured it was something equally impossible that his better half expected him to have control over, and the tickling was more than enough to keep him occupied until the problem worked itself out. "Yes?" he asks, right eye fluttering open part way.

"Fix it." He says. And then, moving a finger back to his mouth and suddenly remembering his manner, he adds, "Please."

Light lets himself sigh dramatically. "I can't do that, L. You know I can't."

"No," he says, sounding pretty sure of himself. "You can."

"Oh?" Light raises his eyebrows. "How exactly do you propose I go about returning power to our apartment?"

He thinks about it, finger pressing between his lips so he can bite at the skin. Light winces as he watches - he's asked his partner a million times not to do that, and every time L has ignored him. Light just shakes his head and rolls his eyes when his husband checks in for the night, blood from hangnails crusted around his cuticles and band-aids plastered around his fingers. It's gross. It's oddly endearing. Light hates it, but he loves L, so he lives with it.

"Hack it," L suggests, breaking Light from his reverie.

"Hack what, though?" Light asks. "Hacking anything requires electricity, which we distinctly seem to be lacking. Of which you are well aware," he points out.

"Your laptop should be fully charged." L says, his eyes are a little wider. "I could go and get it for you."

Light laughs softly.  _This man is ridiculous_. "If the power is out, the internet is probably out as well," he says, some part of him eager to hear whatever L challenges him with next.

"I'm sure you could think of something," is all he says. He hasn't moved, knees drawn up to his chest and balancing easily in his compact position. Light's often envied his flexibility, but he can't help but wonder if it doesn't also hurt a little bit. They're not teenagers anymore, surely so much constriction is bad for the muscles. Light sighs again, less dramatically, and his eyes close again. 

He's suspicious when the feels his husband start to move again. He doesn't know what the other man is planning, but he stays still, slight concentrated frown in place, as L starts to manipulate his body. It takes him longer than it should to realize that L is making him lay down on the couch, so that he can lay down on top of him. He must be really tired. The smile returns softly when he feels L's weight on him, black hair splaying out everywhere. L doesn't normally relax like this, so it's nice in a way to feel the drumming of L's fingers against his ribcage, trying to beat out a pattern against his skin. In all probability, he's thinking about something else entirely.

"Normally times like this are boring," he comments, after a few quiet moments.

It's a little irritating, the way he always speaks his mind. But he knows the parts to pick out. "Normally?" he asks, trying to keep the aggravation of his husband's bluntness from seeping into his voice.

"Your heartbeat. It's interesting to listen to," L comments, voice steady. "It's irregular."

Light frowns. He's not really sure how to read that monotone voice sometimes. "Should I get it checked by a doctor?" he asks.

He can feel L frowning against the fabric of his button-down shirt. "No," he mutters, and Light imagines that the weight against his stomach is the addition of L's left hand, his thumb pressing against his teeth. "The implication was meant to be me asking if I'm the reason it's irregular. I was attempting to flirt."

Light has to hold back an amused snort - L is oddly insecure about some things, and he avoids crossing the line as often as possible. "Oh," he says. And then, "Yes, you are."

The frown turns to a smile. "Good," he says. "I'd hate to think it was Matsuda or something."

Light lets his eyes open to frown down at his partner. Now L is the one with the irregular heartbeat, wide eyes unblinking out onto nothing. "You don't seriously believe that, do you?"

They've had this argument before about Light's overly enthusiastic underling. He's tried explaining that Matsuda is more interested in his little sister Sayu (and much to their parents chagrin, she seems to reciprocate), but he knows that there are layers upon layers of self-doubt and self-worth issues - almost all of them directly related to his physical attributes and lack of social graces. 

None of which Light has ever cared about. "You are far more interesting than all of the police officers and murders combined," Light comments, fingers pressing into L's hair, running through the strands. 

He feels L's heart flutter, against the other man's will, but the his voice is still monotone. "Thank you." Light hums, eyes closing, heartbeat slowing when he hears L speak up again. "I feel the same."


End file.
